


When A House Isn't A Home

by FallingInAForest



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Also he needs help, And not so falsely thinks he's better than Jared, And used to have glowing stars on his ceiling, Connors POV, He is a good kid, He just has anger issues, He loves Cookie Crisp Cereal, I promise, That he cant control
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-24 19:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13818033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingInAForest/pseuds/FallingInAForest
Summary: Connor Murphy is exactly who you'd think he is: a highschooler with anger issues and contradicting thoughts. But for fucks sake, at least he was better than Jared Kleinman, a wasted sack of flesh. Right? So when Connor realizes that the scrawny kid who follows him around is being treated shitty by Jared, Connor obviously has to treat him decently, Right?





	1. When Push Comes To Shove

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I'm writing a new story when I have plenty of unfinished ones, but at least I am trying?? 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!!
> 
> I was really feeling in the mood to write in Connor's point of view again :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated 12/8/18

Connor Murphy awoke to the sound of his alarm, which he had set to be a voice recording of someone saying, "Time's the fuck up," repeatedly.

 

Sure, maybe it was tacky, but it got the job done, and Connor only ever slept through it when on purpose.

 

He laid awake in his bed for moments more, staring at his barren ceiling. He thought back to when he used to have glowing stars scattered across, to help his 8 year old self sleep better. A symbol of innocence ripped away.

 

The moment he turned 10, Larry ripped them off, stating that he needed to be a man now, and girly stars weren't the way to go. And so the wonders of space left Connor's room, and went into Zoe's instead. If not for that, Connor would have fallen in love with the wonders of outer space.

 

He remembered how he couldn't sleep for a whole week afterwards, his fear of the darkness always around. When he stayed awake, his brain conjured up demons to whisk him away, but that was almost better for him than the alternative. Because when he fell asleep, the real nightmares appeared, always including his father destroying his life over and over again, yelling at him for never being good enough.

 

He had only been 10, and he already feared his father more than demons from the darkest pits of Hell.

 

Now, however, Connor was numb to it all. The darkness was safer than the light, and his dad could yell and yell, but he'd never break in front of him. When he was finally left alone, maybe, but never in front of him. He could tough it out until then at least.

 

"Connor!" A light voice, belonging to his mother, called, wishing him awake.

 

"I'm up!" He called back, forcing himself to roll off of his bed, because if he tried to get up normally, there was no way he'd actually do so.

 

Grunting slightly from the fall, he arose from the floor, pulling socks on before heading downstairs, to make himself breakfast. His socks were dark grey with even darker stripes. They were currently his favorite pair; the only ones without holes in them.

 

When he reached the kitchen, he noticed that Zoe wasn't quite down yet, and so for one of the first times in his whole high-school career, he got first dibs on breakfast.

 

While today it didn't mean much, when Cynthia was the one making breakfast, she'd purposely make one plate better or with more food than the other, as motivation to get out of bed earlier.

 

However, this year, Cynthia found her new interest in a "Do it yourself" initiative, and so she declared that Connor and Zoe would have to make breakfast themselves. So all in all, it was unimportant that he got up earlier than Zoe today, but he promised himself that he would still find a way to make it count.

 

Lazily, he scanned the cereal Cynthia had set out for them, before his eyes stayed trained on a particular one: Cookie crisp.

 

And once he saw it, there was no way he would choose any other cereal. Lucky charms who? Cookie crisp was the ultimate top-tier cereal, and Connor wasn't about to question it's status by grabbing something sub par.

 

Afterwards, he poured a sufficient amount into his bowl, he grabbed the milk out of the fridge. When doing so, he realized that there was a way to get back at Zoe for always having the bigger and better breakfasts after all: by finishing the milk.

 

And by God, he did. Although, it wasn't as epic as he was making it seem in his head. After all, all he had to do was pour the milk into his bowl of cereal since the remaining amount was only enough for one bowl anyhow.

 

But when Zoe waltzed down the stairs nonchalantly, and opened the cabinet to pour some of her own cereal (which was cocoa puffs, of all things…  _ the nerve _ ), she was unaware of the horrific fate she was going to be sentenced to: dry cereal.

 

As expected, she opened the fridge, and with horror in her eyes, complained, "Mom! Connor finished the milk!"

 

And that little over-dramatized victory was enough for Connor.

 

* * *

 

Connor arrived at school five minutes earlier than usual, which he viewed as extremely unnecessary, especially on the first day of his Senior year.  _ Great _ , now he probably looked like a kid who actually gave a fuck, the opposite of the vibe he was going for.

 

Walking through the halls was as nightmarish as he remembered, feeling crushed between the hordes of people and the lockers. Frustration built as a sophomore stopped walking right in front of him to talk to their friend.  _ Couldn't they have moved out of the way first? _

 

He gripped the strap of his bag as tight as he could, which he found to be a better alternative to clenching his fists. It was too early to get super pissed off about something, leaving this as the better option. It seemed to keep him grounded.

 

When he reached his locker, he put in the code, which he thankfully remembered, probably only because his code was, "6, 42, 0," which reminded him of 420.

 

Inside his locker, he put notebooks and school supplies that he either didn't need at the moment, or didn't want to need at the moment.

 

Afterwards, he shut, er, slammed, his locker, and started walking aimlessly in the direction his first hour was, not that he was planning on making it on time.

 

"Hey, Connor!" A voice called, with an undeniable humorous undertone, taunting him. "Loving the new hair length. Very... school shooter chic.”

 

And that was the moment Connor decided that Jared Kleinman, the owner of the voice, was a fucking idiot who wasn't worth a dime. He could walk away. He could ignore Kleinman and the stupid, fidgety, scrawny kid that was following him like a pathetic lost puppy, but Connor wasn't in the mood to stay out of trouble anymore, and turned to face them, his jaw set, ready to go ballistic if need be. And with Kleinman, there was always a need.

 

Kleinman, in response to Connor's fight over flight reaction, says, "It was a joke?" But the sentence more so read, 'You're the joke.'

 

Connor's hands stopped gripping the strap of his bag, and began to clench his fists, an all too familiar feeling. 

 

He didn't want to fight. But what else was be supposed to do?

 

“ _ It's senior year, Connor”, his mom's voice echoed in his head. “Things can be different this time.” No, he thought back. Nothing will ever change. _

 

_ It's who he is. _

 

"Yeah, no, it was funny," Connor says flatly, not letting his anger rise quite yet. There's an art to it. Time it just right, and that's how you get others to fear you. "I'm laughing, can’t you tell?"

 

He lurches a step forward, and a small part of him wishes that he would just stop. Just calm down. But he doesn't. "Am I not laughing hard enough for you?"

 

That's when Jared finds the small bit of sense in him that he has, and steps away slightly, but verbally takes a step forward. "You're such a  _ freak _ ."

 

Before Jared's last verbal attack, there was a chance, no matter how minuscule it was, that Connor would back off.  _ Jared knew better. _

 

_ Freak, freak, freak. _

 

Freak was the last thing Connor should be called, not that Jared Kleinman would care, because that word in particular hit home with Connor.

 

_ "Stop being such a freak, Connor, and listen to me," Larry had said, just before he struck Connor for the first time, slapping him across the face. Connor could still feel the sting of the slap, and what he was thinking the moment Larry's hand collided with his cheek. And after that, that was the only word Larry could associate him with. _

 

But before Connor can hurt Jared, his scrawny friend lets out a snicker, in the form of a poorly disguised cough, throwing Connor off of his game. And so he is forced to confront the kid instead of finally being able to wipe the ugly grin off of Kleinman's face.

 

"The  _ fuck  _ are you laughing at?" Connor asks, his anger still bubbling like a pot of boiling water from Jared's remark.

 

"Wha—I, no—!" Was all the kid could get out. He looked pathetic, like a deer in headlights, and sounded even worse.

 

It was then that Connor realized that that's exactly how Larry would think. Larry would exploit all of the kids insecurities like Connor's brain was doing. Larry would strike him for having them.

 

"Stop fucking laughing at me!" Connor declared, in order to get those creeping thoughts off of his brain. He's not Larry. And the kid wasn't Connor. And there wasn't any correlation.

 

He was too worked up at this point to leave without harming anyone. Even after the bell rang, he was going to finish this. So who would it be? Jared? The antsy kid? Or himself?

 

"You think I’m a freak?"

 

"No, I wasn’t—"

 

" _ You're _ the fucking freak!" Connor snarls, and so the target was chosen. He lunges forward, and shoves the kid to the ground, who doesn't even seem to process what's going on, unused to violence.

 

The kid hits the ground with a thud, that seems to echo in Connor's mind. He fucked up again, he knew it. But then again, he had known it before he pushed him. Even so, guilt crept up on him. 

 

He was a freak. Who the hell, other than a freak, pushes the gawky, anxious kid, so hard that he probably got a concussion for it.

 

He turns back to look at him, to see if he's okay, but when he does, he notices something he didn't before.

 

The kid has a fucking  _ cast _ . He fucked over someone who has a  _ broken arm _ . A kid so uncomfortable in his own skin, that he hangs out with  _ Jared _ , who definitely doesn't care about him, a thought that is only confirmed when Connor notices another thing:

 

Kleinman isn't even helping him up. In fact, Jared  _ left _ .

  
So the kid is sitting there, staring at the ground, all alone. And dammit, Connor was better than Jared, so if Jared didn't have it in him to stay with this kid, Connor  _ sure as hell _ was about to turn around, help him up, and apologize for being such a despicable human being.


	2. Hallway Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor tries his best to apologise, even though he hates apologies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter!

  
"Are you okay?" Connor asks, taking a deep breath while walking back to the guy he just shoved.  
  
When he heard Connor's voice, his eyes looked confused, understandably so.  
  
Connor didn't expect a response, so without getting one, he extended his hand to help the guy out.  
  
Once again, he looked confused. But he didn't shoo Connor away, so that was something.  
  
"T-thanks," he says, barely a whisper, before accepting Connor's helping hand and standing up.  
  
"Im sorry I pushed you," Connor says, the word sorry, being used in this manner, feeling unusual on his tongue.  
  
Suddenly, Connor felt a wave of embarrassment come over him, causing him to be self conscious of how he is seen by this kid.  
  
He probably looks scary, with his unruly, long hair and eyebags from sleepless nights. His jacket is dark and zipped, probably signaling that Connor is a closed book.  
  
Additionally, his dark jeans had holes in them, and his black converse were trashed, showing that he didn't care about anything. On his hands were pencil marks from when he was drawing on the way to school, and his nails had chipped black nail polish on them.  
  
"I-it's o-okay," The boy assured, although it most likely wasn't at all. The kid seemed like the type of worrier who would still be thinking about this when he got home, wondering why someone would push him, and if there was something wrong with him that would make people want to push him.  
  
Connor was a jerk. Jared was an inconsiderate, self-serving imbecile. And this kid, whoever he was, didn't deserve either of them.  
  
"What's your name?" Connor asks, instead of apologising again, because he knew that that would just keep them in a loop, and besides, Connor wasn't a fan of apologising. It wouldn't hurt that Connor would be able to call him something other than "the guy," "that kid," or some offensive nickname.  
  
"E-E-Evan. Evan Hansen," he responds, probably only still around because he doesn't want to be rude and leave.  
  
"Okay, Evan. You seem like someone who relived every moment a thousand times, so I just want you to know that I didn't push you because of any reason in particular, okay? Jared pisses me off even when he's not trying to, and you just happened to be there," Connor says.  
  
After saying so, Connor looks at Evan, watching as the gears turn in his head, generating reasons why Connor could be or could not be telling the truth.  
  
There are a few times that Evan looks as though he is about to open his mouth, but decides against it. Eventually, he finds something that he deems important enough to ask, "What's yours?"  
  
"Oh," Connor says immediately, as though he didn't even realize that that was an option for Hansen to ask in the first place. He was more so expecting him to yell at him for pushing him without a reason. "Connor Murphy."  
  
"Connor Murphy," Evan repeats, but immediately looks embarrassed for doing so. "S-sorry!"  
  
"For what?" Connor asks, confused as to what in the world Evan could have done that would make him apologize to the person who just pushed him.  
  
"Nothing, I-I, ju-," Evan says. "S-sorry."  
  
In response, Connor shakes his head with amusement. He managed to find someone that was almost the exact opposite of him. Connor hated apologizing, Evan did so without reasoning. Connor pushed people with broken arms in hallways, and Evan didn't look like he could hurt a soul.  
  
"How did you break your arm?" Connor asks, not bothering to wonder if that question could be triggering or not. He usually didn't think about people's feelings before he spoke.  
  
"O-oh, my arm. I-I, uh," Evan mumbles to himself, as if he has to think about it befobefor he can answer. "I fell! From a tree."  
  
"You fell?" Connor asks, narrowing his eyes, knowing that there was something off with the way Evan delivered his answer. "From a tree?"  
  
"Y-yeah, I-I did," Evan says again. "S-sorry."  
  
And Connor notices that Evan won't look him in the eyes when he says so this time around, only strengthening Connor's suspicion that that wasn't actually what happened. And so he decides to push it a little.  
  
"That's the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard," Connor says, watching Evan's reaction to the statement. And as suspected, Evan doesn't look directly attacked by the response, and instead, looks... relieved?  
  
"Y-yeah, I know," Evan says. "W-we should p-probably get to class, right? S-sorry."  
  
"Yeah, probably..." Connor says, although his heart isn't in it. He was still curious about why Evan would lie, but then again, he knew nothing about him, so there could be countless reasons he wouldn't understand. He could go to class, which he was planning on doing before this whole ordeal, but now he didn't want to. So his plan was to wait for Evan to walk to his class, and then leave the school until he felt like going back.  
  
"Y-yeah," Evan says, as if he was waiting for Connor to leave first, putting them both in a predicament.  
  
"You're not moving, Hansen," Connor says pointedly, staring at Evan as he fished out his black beanie from his bag, placing it on his head.  
  
"W-well, y-you aren't either!" Evan says, making a point Connor can't argue with.  
  
"Well, yeah, 'cause I'm the stereotypical brooding slacker, but what's your excuse?" Connor asks, studying his nails, fighting back the urge to pick at the remaining black nailpolish.  
  
"I-I," Evan begins, but changed his mind, most likely too embarrassed.  
  
"Relax, Hansen. I'd like to know," Connor says, placing his hands back on the strap of his bag.  
  
"I-it's just that I-Ive already missed s-so much class, a-a-and I don't w-want to interrupt or anything," Evan says, looking at the ground the whole time.  
  
"Okay, I get it. What's your first hour? I could walk you in if that would help..." Connor began, but then realized that the offer might make him seem too polite, which would obviously throw the whole world into some chaos, so he added, "Or whatever."  
  
"A-actually... That would," Evan says, but mostly to himself. Once he realizes that he said so out loud, he hastily adds, "B-but you dont have to! I-It'll just inconvenience you!"  
  
"Hansen, I've already got my mind set on it. So if anything, it'll inconvenience me not to walk you to class," Connor states, in a firm tone, so Evan can't back down from his offer.  
  
"O-okay," Evan says, and then looks as though he is counting on his fingers. Eventually, he says, "It's in room 251."  
  
"Wait," Connor says, narrowing his eyes. "Room 251? As in AP Bio?"  
  
"Y-yeah,"  
  
"I'm in room 251 for 1st hour's AP Bio." Connor remembers, realizing that if he walks Evan to class like he said he would, he too would have to go to class.  
  
But Connor wasn't like Jared. He wouldn't ditch Evan just because he was inconvenienced.  
  
"I guess we're heading to class," Connor says with a shrug, and so the pair began their voyage to room 251.  
  
When they reached the door, Evan hesitated, still concerned about interrupting or getting yelled at for being late, but Connor was the King of being late to class, and wiggling out of tardies.  
  
"You good?" Connor asks, shoving his hands in his pockets.  
  
"N-Y-yes," Evan says, obviously covering up the fact that he was about to admit that he was not in fact ready.  
  
"Look, it was my fault you're late, so I'll make sure you don't get into any trouble for it, okay?" Connor says with a shrug, trying to put himself in Evan's shoes so he would know what to tell Evan.  
  
"O-okay," Evan says, but only looks slightly more relaxed than before.  
  
"Connor?" He asks finally, looking at Connor.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"T-thank you," Evan says in a whisper.  
  
"Hey, Evan. You do realize that I was super shitty to you earlier and pushed you, right?" Connor reminds, looking at Evan with curiosity.  
  
"Y-yeah," Evan says with a timid shrug. "But l-lots of people a-are mean. Not a lot are nice t-to me. But you are, at least r-right now."  
  
And that made Connor think. 'Cause Evan, this scrawny, fidgety kid, could overlook the mean things you've done just by showing the most miniscule amount of niceness.  
  
Connor felt bad for Evan. He seemed like the type of person who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and got screwed over constantly for it. He was probably made fun of constantly, too, as the people in this school were relentless. But when Connor actually thought about it, he didn't just feel bad for Evan, he empathized with him. Connor actually... related to him. Connor never did that with people.  
  
"We're going in," Connor says, without moving until Evan gave the kid of confirmation, saying that it was okay.  
  
Before heading into the classroom, Connor almost accidentally grabbed Evan's hand.  
  
He could say it was out of reflex, but that wouldn't make much sense, as Connor didn't usually go around holding everyone's hands. Thankfully, it didn't appear as though Evan noticed, as he was probably too stressed about entering the classroom in the middle of class.  
  
Needless to say, that accidental almost-action slightly threw Connor off of his game as he opened the door and stepped in, Evan following closely behind.  
  
Immediately, the teacher turned and stopped talking to the class, tilting her head as she asked, "And who might you boys be?"  
  
"I'm Connor," Connor states, and then motions to Evan. "And this is Evan."  
  
"And?"  
  
"We're in this class," Connor says with a shrug.  
  
"Splendid. But what makes you two so late?" She asks, looking as if she wants to be stern with them, but isn't much of a strict teacher.  
  
"I was having an asthma attack, so he took me to the nurse," Connor makes up, although he does in fact have asthma just a rather mild case of it.  
  
"Oh, I see, please take a seat, we were just going over the syllabus," The teacher responds, embarrassed for having wanted to give them trouble for being late.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Connor states, and so when Evan sits down, Connor sits in the seat behind him. Not that he specifically wanted to sit near Hansen but because it was one of the empty seats.  
  
After they've settled down and the teacher began rambling once more, Evan turned to look back at Connor, mouthing the words "Thank you," making Connor smile, because even though he totally fucked up earlier in the day, he fixed it. .  
  
All that matters is a happy ending, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So?? How's it looking?
> 
> I know this chapter didn't really move along, as the entirety of it takes place in the hallway, but I figured their conversation was important enough to have in full. 
> 
> Also I was writing this and I kept imagining Connor in a beanie, or more importantly Connor looking cute in a beanie.


	3. The Reign Of The Hallway Continues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor wastes away 2nd hour in the hallway, listening to his "tunes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far this fic is moving slowly, but I don't really mind for some reason?? Usually, I skip days or weeks in between chapters, but writing from where I left off comes a lot easier to me?? 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy! This is fairly short, but that just means I'm more likely to update sooner.

After AP Bio ended, Connor almost said something to Evan, but then realized that there wasn't a reason for him to. Evan and him weren't friends, and everything Connor had done thus far to Evan was simply in spite of Jared.  
  
So he let Evan frantically dart out of the room, and was left alone once more. Maybe he was in a room where students were piling in and out, but... the thought was still in his head that he was alone.  
  
"Hey, Connor?" He heard a voice say, and wanted to block it out. The voice was familiar, but he couldn't place it. And so he was forced to look up, to find Alana Beck standing in front of him.  
  
"Hm?" He mumbles grumpily in response, wondering when she even got there.  
  
"Are you in this class? Or are you still here from the previous hour?" Alana asks, and Connor remembers why he wanted to block her voice out: She talked a lot, and too fast. It was sometimes hard to keep track of her words, like a connect the dots ordeal where fragments were jumbled throughout. "Because there's only 1 minute and 21 seconds until class starts."  
  
"Oh," He said, and was going to leave it at that, before seeing the expectant look in her eyes. Even then, he was going to get up and leave without a response, but for some reason, he answered. "No, Alana, I'm still here from 1st hour."  
  
With the mention of her name, her face lit up, as if that was unexpected, but everyone knew her name. It was impossible not to, as she was in charge of practically everything students could be at this school. However, when he mentioned that he wasn't in her class, she looked... disappointed? No, Connor decided, she was just putting up a front to seem nice.  
  
So he got up, and began to leave, but when he was in the middle of doing so, he heard Alana call, "Oh, and Connor, cute beanie."  
  
He didn't say thank you out loud, but mouthed a quick thanks anyways, because then it wouldn't nag him for the rest of the day that he didn't. And if he were to actually say thanks, to the point where people could hear him, he would be regretting it all day. And so he decided to resort to this healthy medium.  
  
He didn't know where he wanted to go after his last class, whether it be his next class or anywhere but there.  
  
In the end, he didn't go anywhere. Instead, he simply put his earbuds in and sank to the ground against the lockers.  
  
Sometimes, Connor listened to music to get his mind off of something, and others, such as this time, he just wanted to listen. So Connor pulled out his phone, which was an IPhone 5 with a shattered screen, due to one particular fight he had had with Larry, where he got so pissed he threw his phone at his parents door. He opened up his Itunes playlist, and pressed shuffle, letting fate decide what mood he was in. He didn't even have to look at the results to tell that it was _Choke_ by I Don't Know How But They Found Me.  
  
_"Stop, drop and drag me into place_  
_Lock the fire escapes_  
_I'll break your pretty face_  
_Yeah, yeah_  
  
_Oh, you clever little things_  
_The sycophantic teens_  
_What a precious basket case_  
_Yeah, yeah_  
  
_Now shut your dirty mouth_  
_If I could burn this town_  
_I wouldn't hesitate_  
_To smile while you suffocate and die_  
_And that would be just fine_  
_What a lovely time_  
_That it would surely be_  
_So bite your tongue and choke yourself to sleep_  
  
_Yeah, yeah_  
  
_You get everything you want_  
_The money always talks_  
_To the idiot savants_  
_Yeah, yeah_  
  
_Now shut your dirty mouth_  
_If I could burn this town_  
_I wouldn't hesitate_  
_To smile while you suffocate and die_  
_And that would be just fine_  
_What a lovely time_  
_That it would surely be_  
_So bite your tongue and choke yourself to sleep_  
  
_Now shut your dirty mouth_  
_If I could burn this town_  
_I wouldn't hesitate_  
_To smile while you suffocate and die_  
_And that would be just fine, oh_  
_What a lovely time_  
_That it would surely be_  
_So bite your tongue and choke yourself_  
  
_Yeah, yeah"_  
  
During the lull of silence between songs, Connor heard a door slam shut, and became alert, taking one earbud out to figure out what was going on.  
  
After scanning the area with his eyes, he saw someone standing outside of a nearby classroom, breathing heavily.  
  
After a moment, Connor realized that it wasn't just anybody, but Evan. He momentarily thought about going to see if he was okay, but then the door Evan was by opened and closed once more revealing another person:  
  
_Kleinman_.  
  
Connor immediately tensed at the sight of Jared, but didn't move otherwise. Instead, he shut off his music and watched.  
  
Without any other sounds, Connor could now hear how heavily Evan was breathing, and how fast.  
  
"Evan. Hey, Evan? Listen to me. Breath in, okay?" Jared said, almost as of he were trying to help Evan, the idea of Kleinman helping someone almost making Connor snort. "1...2...3...4...5...6...7. Okay, good."  
  
"Now, breath out," Jared continued. "1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8." Afterwards, they repeated the process once more, until Evan seemed to be breathing normally again.  
  
From what Connor could see, Evan was doing exactly what Jared said, as if they had done this sort of thing a thousand times. And that's when Connor realized that maybe they had.  
  
"T-t-t-thanks, Jared," Evan said, his voice still shaky, but other than that, seemingly okay.  
  
"What triggered it this time?" Jared asked, the use of the words _this time_ confirming Connor's realization.  
  
_Well, dammit,_ Connor thought. _Does this mean Kleinman, of all people, is a better person than me?_  
  
The least Connor could do after that was put his earbuds back in, so he wouldn't overhear Evan's personal reasons for his freak out.  
  
When Evan and Jared retreated back into the classroom, Connor pulled out his sketchbook, a pencil, and an eraser. He didn't know what he was about to draw until he saw the shape of the face he drew, and there was only one person it could be.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand? What'd you think?


	4. Stay Away From My Lunch Table, Kleinman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor finds an unexpected guest at his lunch table, who won't leave him the fuck alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> It's been a bit. Whoops.

Connor actually decided to go to 4th hour. Maybe it was because it was Art class, or maybe because Zoe was also in it, and would definitely tattle if he skipped. The only reason he was taking Art Fundamentals senior year rather than earlier was because even though he loved art, he wasn't much of a fan of being graded on it, especially with deadlines.  
  
Sadly, this teacher decided that at least for the first week, they would be sat in alphabetical order, which meant that they would not only be in the same class, but also right next to each other.  
  
Hopefully, the both of them could keep it together until they were allowed to choose their own seats.  
  
During class, Connor tried his best to appear to be a good student, all for show, just so his sister could assume he wasn't that bad after all. However, part of the way through the syllabus, he couldn't keep still, and without thinking, opened his sketchbook to his latest drawing.  
  
Zoe saw the notion, and looked at Connor quizically when seeing who was depicted.  
  
"I thought you hated Jared," She whispers when the teacher isn't paying too close attention to the students, as she is lost in a tangent about her family, which she started as soon as they zoomed through the syllabus.  
  
"I do," Connor mutters sharply, which is still rather tame for him when Jared was brought up.  
  
"Then why are you drawing him?" Zoe asks curiously, staring at the sketchbook.  
  
"It's... hate art," Connor decided, trying to come up with an explanation, but in reality, he didn't have control over what he drew. Sometimes, his hands just started sketching something, and after they started, he couldn't ever get it out of his brain until he finished the drawing.  
  
"Hate art?" She repeated, not buying it at all, which was a good thing, because Connor wasn't selling in the first place. "Whatever, weirdo."  
  
And there their conversation ended, as Zoe got distracted by the teacher's puppy that she had a picture of on the board. To be fair, it _was_ a cute mix between a German Shepherd and a Golden Retriever.  
  
For the rest of class, Connor was zoned out, his attention trained on his sketchbook, which, to be fair, was welcomed in an art class.  
  
After class ended, Connor quickly put it away and left class, in order to keep Zoe from asking more questions. It's not like he had anything to hide, but Connor wasn't naive enough to pretend like hate art was a believable thing.  
  
It wasn't his fault he drew Jared, he was probably just in the mood to draw a total scumbag, and Jared was the perfect person for the job. Because even if Jared didn't totally suck to Evan as previously suspected, Connor still knew firsthand that Jared Kleinman was a despicable person.  
  
-O-  
  
5th hour came and went without any surprises or interesting occurrences, which wasn't very surprising, as it was just English class.  
  
With the end of English, which happened to be AP Lit and Comp, merely because Larry forced him into higher classes this year, came lunch. He had the first shift of lunch, and didn't know what to do for it.  
  
There were rarely enough tables for him to sit alone, and the kids who wanted teachers to think they're special would ask him to sit with them anyways, and then he'd either be a jerk or miserable for the rest of lunch, souring his mood.  
  
He ended up sitting in the library, which was an option for kids who wanted a quiet setting for lunch. Honestly, Connor could care less if it were loud or quite, since blasting music in his ears was an option regardless.  
  
He didn't even end up eating lunch, even though he had brought a brown paper bag with a sandwich and such. Instead, he took a nap, not bothering to look to see who else was in A lunch, because he could care less who was there.  
  
Except there was one person he wouldn't want to have to see. And that person happened to stumble into the library and wake him up from his nap with a snarky, "What, did mommy not make you lunch this morning?"  
  
"What do you want?" Connor hisses in return, annoyed that he was woken up.  
  
" _Want_?" Jared asks, as if the question is absurd. "No, don't be silly, Con. I came to ask you, a loner, if you would like to sit with me at my grand table."  
  
"There's no way in Hell," Connor mutters, glaring at Jared.  
  
"Oh, too bad..." Jared says, pretending to be saddened by Connor's obvious rejection. "I guess I'll just have to sit with you then."  
  
"Fuck off," Connor said in response.  
  
But then Jared's demeanor changed, and he dropped his snark for once in his life, asking, "Why do you hate me?"  
  
"Why do you fuck me over every day of your life? I don't know, some things just go hand in hand..." Connor answers, narrowing his eyes at Jared as if he were trying to understand his angle.  
  
"Fine, if you don't want to tell me, I'll leave." Jared says, delaying a second before standing up and turning away, ready to walk off.  
  
"Wait, Kleinman," Connor says despite himself. He doesn't even know why he says it, it just comes out.  
  
"Oh?" Jared says, raising his eyebrow and heading back to the table, making Connor immediately regret it. "You called?"  
  
"If you're going to keep the snark, you can leave."  
  
"Fine," Jared murmurs, taking a deep breath.  
  
"You don't think about the consequences of shit you do, you just do 'em without realizing that they have effects on people," Connor says, staring at Jared with crossed arms, as if he were preparing a whole spiel on things that were wrong with Jared.  
  
"Like when?" Jared asks.  
  
"Like when you outted me in front of my parents," Connor says, with more force than intended.  
  
"You would've had to tell them eventually, right? Besides, how was I supposed to know that they didn't already know-"  
  
"See, Jared? _You don't get it. Some people_ get beat up for that shit."  
  
With that, Jared's face twisted with concern and confusion, and he appeared to be tongue-tied, not knowing what to say in response to something like that.  
  
"Point made," Connor says, looking at Jared as if to say _See? I told you so_.  
  
"Okay, fine. I'll give you that one, but what else?" Jared asks, drumming his fingers on the table.  
  
"You talk shit on people everyday. _School shooter chic?_ How do you even come up with that shit?" Connor asks.  
  
"I don't know I guess I'm just good with words," Jared says, causing Connor to kick him in the shin quickly. "Ow! Okay, fine, fine. I didn't know that that was going to cause you to flip out and push Evan."  
  
"You of all people should know that that wasn't the phrase that pushed me over the edge Jared," Connor mutters under his breath, but in order to refrain from getting worked up again, he adds. "And speaking of Evan, why'd you ditch him?"  
  
"Ditch him?" Jared asks, confused.  
  
"Yeah, after I pushed him. I turned around and poof, you were gone. And he was left there all alone in an empty hallway, on the ground, with a broken arm."  
  
"So that's why you helped him up? You were taking pity on him? Because that's fucked up," Jared says, slightly altering the conversation to his favor, because he wasn't willing to admit to himself that he had left Evan.  
  
"If you care so much about him, why'd you ditch him?" Connor counters.  
  
"I-I... I don't know," Jared says, at a loss for words once again. "Wait. I never said I cared about him-"  
  
"Jared, I'm not an idiot. Of course you do. Why else would you have those dumbass breathing techniques memorized?" Connor asks.  
  
"You saw that?" Jared asks, shifting in his seat.  
  
"Yeah, I saw that. That's another thing, Jared, you could actually be a decent person if you weren't embarrassed every time you did something that wasn't totally shitty," Connor says, realizing that the more he talked to Jared in this moment, the more he remembered back to sophomore year, when they were still friends.  
  
"Evan's the one who told me to talk to you, y'know," Jared states, as if he were having the same realization as Connor.  
  
"He was?" Connor asks, because that either meant that he made that much of an impression on Evan or that Jared was talking to Evan about his and Connor's issues, meaning that he was the one who wanted things to change.  
  
"Yeah," Jared says. "Evan told me about how you helped him up after I left and how you walked him into class when he was too afraid to go alone. He was talking about you like you were a saint, Connor."  
  
"Is that you implying that I'm not?" Connor asks, this time him being the one to bring the snark, causing Jared to look him in the eye with a quick grin, before stomping on his foot.  
  
"Ow," Connor replies to that action, in a complete monotone voice, strictly out of principal.  
  
"Connor..." Jared says suddenly, his voice trailing off at the end.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You know it's a two-way street, right?" Jared asks, shifting in his seat again.  
  
In response, Connor nods slowly, as if finally admitting his wrongdoings.  
  
"I know some of it wasn't your fault," Jared says. "But some of it was you in control. And that shit made me miserable."  
  
"I know," Connor says in response.  
  
" _I know?_ " Jared repeats. "I know isn't good enough, Connor."  
  
"Of course it isn't," Connor says in response. "Look, I get it, Okay? That's why we act like we hate each other now. Because we both drove each other to shit. But what are we supposed to do about that? I say nothing. Let's just not make it worse."  
  
And for what felt like an eternity, Jared didn't reply. Instead, he looked down at his fingers, which were drumming on the table.  
  
"No," Jared finally states, leaving back and looking at Connor in the eyes.  
  
"What do you mean, no?" Connor asks, confused. Weren't they better off alone?  
  
"That doesn't sit right with me," Jared says, tapping his hands on the table, which was a sign that he was serious, which usually made him uncomfortable.  
  
"..." Connor didn't respond. He didn't know what to say. This was Jared, finally reaching out after almost 2 years, and Connor didn't know whether to take the life line or leave it.  
  
"I say we give it a week. If we are somehow more miserable after it than we are now, fine. We don't have to say shit to each other ever again. But it's unnatural as fuck to ignore someone when you remember everything about them," Jared states firmly, as if this wasn't a negotiation.  
  
"What do you remember?" Connor asks, slouching even more so than usual at the table, curious to see if Jared is exaggerating or if he actually did care to pay attention and remember things about Connor.  
  
For a second, Jared pauses, making Connor think that he was just bluffing, but then Jared finally speaks. "I remember you telling me about the glow in the dark stars you had on your ceiling until Larry took them away. I remember that your mom snuck you to ballet practice, which you only got to go to 7 times before Larry found out. Your middle name is Michael. You celebrate your birthday on your half birthday, because you like it to be yours and yours alone. Do you want me to continue?"  
  
Connor had been watching Jared the entire time he rambled on about the things of the past, seeing Jared's eyes light up as he remembered each story. Connor was almost... impressed. That someone like Jared, of all people, was actually....  
  
"Damn, Murphy. Make me cut open the memories of the past just to reward me with a whole serving of silence? Not very zesty," Jared says, interrupting Connor's thoughts.  
  
Nevermind.  
  
"Fine," Connor says simply, not bothering to elaborate to Jared.  
  
"What do you mean fine?"  
  
"I mean I'll give your whole proposition thing a shot. And if I don't want to punch you by the end of the week, then I guess we will be cool," Connor says with a shrug, trying not to let Jared know that he missed him too. Because that would sound lame, right? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? Has the quality deteriorated? Has it skyrocketed? Or is it just average? Of you have an opinion on this chapter, please comment below!

**Author's Note:**

> And?? What'd you think?? Good? Bad? Somewhere in between?? Please tell me below!!


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